Fluffy Clouds are Sassy
by loveretriever
Summary: (Note: I've made this a collection of one-shot fics written for prompts. Don't take my writing seriously. I sure don't!) Various characters, pairings, etc. The usual warnings in place. Nothing is connected unless specified or at reader's discretion.
1. Brendan, Sabrina and Me

I don't normally write OCs, especially not with me as my own character XD I don't like using myself in stories, but this is for a prompt.

Written for #1 of The Challenging Challenge prompts by Sable Supernova.

Set in an AU 1977 Hogwarts (any further details are unknown to me, so if there are inconsistencies with canon, I don't follow. Note this is AU!)

Word count: 1541

* * *

Brendan Mosley, Sabrina Weatherby and I often sat at the far end of our House table, talking about all manner of things, including our future.

"I would love to go to Wales. Get away from this lot here," I indicated the popular group gathered at the opposite end of the Slytherin table.

Sabrina shivered. "I have to stay in London," she said quietly. "My mum wants me to learn how to become a healer so I can work at St. Mungo's."

"My da wants me to go to Ireland," Brendan disinterestedly picked at the food on his plate. "I don't want to go, but I may have to if my family moves and I don't find work here."

I nodded glumly. All three of us were stuck with lives we didn't want.

I started talking about Quidditch.

"I bet with Charlie," I pointed to a smaller boy sitting down the table, "we'd win by forty points at our next game."

"Hmm, maybe you had better get your money back," Brendan smiled. "Unless you had other reasons for betting?"

I smirked and swatted at him playfully. "You and your dirty mind, I swear! I just thought it'd be fun to have a friendly wager. Besides, he talked to me first. So it's not my fault if he's going to lose his money."

"You swine! I hope he didn't put much down." Brendan shook his head in disbelief. I had made quite a tidy sum of shopping money from betting on games in previous years.

"No, just galleons, dear Brendan. Don't have a heart attack - one galleon each."

"And who else is in the pot?" Brendan asked warily.

I shook my head. "Mum's the word!"

"One of these days, I swear," Brendan mumbled, mouth full of corned beef sandwich.

"I think we should try out for the Quidditch team," Sabrina announced. "Come on, we're fifth years. We have a shot!"

I snorted, very unladylike, Brendan made it known. Scowling, I said, "Well, I'm not very athletic."

"Doesn't matter. We can train."

"Hardly," I said.

"Don't be a downer. Come on!"

"One of us will make it, and it's gonna be either you or Brendan," I insisted.

Brendan shrugged. "I'm in. As long as all three of us do it."

I looked up and saw Sabrina and Brendan staring at me. "What?" I asked, getting annoyed. "Shove off!"

"Oh, come on, Anabel! You need to try this!" Sabrina whined.

"Ana, please, for us?" Brendan asked, voice soft and low.

I made the mistake of looking up into Brendan's beautiful hazel eyes. Mesmerized, I nodded and cursed myself for doing so. This would be the death of me. Quidditch? I wasn't athletic! I knew it: I'm mad, I thought.

~0~

Three weeks later, tryouts were announced. The whole Slytherin Quidditch team was being replaced, the captain, Regulus Black, announced.

I was shocked. I didn't know the WHOLE ENTIRE TEAM except the position of Seeker (Regulus' position) was up for grabs!

I turned on my friends. "So this is the conspiracy! How could you?"

Brendan flashed me his prettiest, most dazzling smile.

Sabrina, at least, had the grace to flush, though her smile was just as eye-smarting. "Would you have come if you had known?"

"No," Brendan answered for me. "So we thought this would be best. Besides, you make a fair Chaser!"

Brendan walked away before I could respond, forcing me to run to keep up with my two best friends. Ugh! Sometimes, they annoyed me to no end. But at times like these, I had to swallow my pride and follow them because they were right. Entirely 100% right. It sucks when people know you too well, I thought.

Regulus started the tryouts with some of the people on the team. They ran drills and formation training. I tried not to stick out and I thought I was succeeding. Until Regulus called for individual tryouts. My heart froze. Individual tryouts in front of all these people?

I looked for Brendan and Sabrina and they mouthed, "Alphabetical, by last name." I was terrified. I was separated by several people from Brendan. Sabrina, lucky witch, was all the way at the back.

When my name was called, I stepped up, mounted my broom and kicked off. I had to admit, it was wonderful to fly. The wind in my hair made me feel light and forgetful. Uh-oh.

"Anabel!" Regulus called out. "Try to score!"

I nodded and dove for the Quaffle. Of course, I missed, being over-eager. Everyone laughed. Regulus smiled and passed me the Quaffle again.

"It's alright. Nerves, I know. Try again." He had a nice smile. So I took his advice. I concentrated only on making my way to the goal.

Pulling my arm back, I threw a left curve and watched as the Keeper, Thaddeus Nott, moved to the right. Landing on the ground, I was surprised to hear cheers from several people in the stands. I saw Brendan and Sabrina beaming at me. I felt my eyes narrow in contained fury, but I couldn't keep the smile off my face. I had scored on ol' Thaddeus, much to his chagrin. It was the first, but not the last, goal he let slip through. Of course, I thought Thaddeus had done it on purpose. Unlike some of the other Slytherins, Thaddeus wasn't too bad. We used to study together until he started hanging out with Bellatrix and Lucius. Then, we took different courses. But he had always been nice.

As we walked off the pitch, Thaddeus came up to us.

"Hello, Ana, Sabrina, Brendan," he said, nodding to each of us in turn.

"Hello, Thaddeus," Sabrina and I responded. I nudged Brendan.

"Hi," he said gruffly, as though it caused him pain to say something to a Nott.

"Um, I was just going to say, I talked to Regulus and we think you'd be good." He stared as us.

I looked at Sabrina and she nudged me. Which means Sabrina bruised my ribs.

Grimacing a little at the pain, I nodded. "Um, thanks, Thaddeus. That means a lot, but it was a fluke. Honest. I didn't think I'd ever score on you." I blushed at the sentence. Great, that's not what you meant, I thought, scolding myself.

Thaddeus was dense, or else he just didn't know what I was saying. "No, you're good. Don't doubt yourself. Seems like you've been practicing since our last game." Smiling, he waved and walked away.

I felt awkward, so I walked back to the castle, forcing Sabrina and Brendan to trot in order to keep pace with me.

"Since your last game?" Sabrina babbled. "How long have you known him for?"

"Old family friend," I said gruffly, sounding like I was channeling Brendan.

Brendan scuffed his feet on the ground. "I don't like him."

Sabrina pushed him, muttering, "I know why you don't like him."

Brendan flushed, for once, and kept quiet.

"But, Ana, why didn't you tell us you could fly like that?" Sabrina pestered me until I told them what had happened the last time I flew.

I used to play Quidditch for a local league team. It was my sister and I. We were a Beater-Chaser team and it was awesome. Until a Bludger hit my sister, blinding her. It was temporary, but she vowed never to fly again. Because of her injury, I quit, too, not wanting to play without my sister. It hurt to never fly like that again, but it was worth it because I loved Tabitha.

"So, when did you play with Thaddeus?" Sabrina wanted to know. I should have known this would bring the hot seat and twenty plus questions.

"Thaddeus was on the team. He was the other Beater. Him and Tabitha. Then, after we left, he became Keeper. Said he'd always wanted to play Keeper and didn't know why my sister and I weren't both Beaters." I smiled, "I told him I was more of a Chaser because I liked to fly fast."

Brendan and Sabrina laughed, knowing my need for speed and my love of adrenaline highs.

Once we entered the Great Hall, I glanced at my friends and saw Sabrina's eyes were shining. Not a good sign. I warned my friends to keep their mouths shut.

"We're your best friends! Of course we're not going to blab, now are we, Brendan?" Sabrina asked, looking to Brendan for confirmation.

Brendan raised his eyebrows. "I never tell."

"Right, that's settled then." Sabrina smiled, looking pleased with herself.

Brendan and I shared a look. I knew I was in for it. Well, if I was going to die, might as well die on an empty stomach.

I sat down casually and watched my friends do the same. Yep, my mind confirmed, I'm going to die an ignominious social death. Let's eat up quick. Maybe I'll escape before the first tendrils of gossip reach this far down the table.


	2. Canon Pairings Suck

I know I couldn't pick just one canon pairing, because I dislike most of the canon pairings mentioned regarding the golden trio era (as some people annoyingly call it).

WARNING: Completely silly, waste of time drabble, with LOTS of character and canon pairing-bashing. You've been warned.

Written for #2 of The Challenging Challenge prompts by Sable Supernova

Word count: 501

* * *

Luna Lovegood always found relationships curious. Her friend, Ginny Weasley, had been through several and had given Luna advice on how to deal with boys.

In their third year, Ginny had gone to the Yule Ball with Neville. The two had shared a brief kiss. Luna scrunched up her face. Ew. So gross. To kiss the dry lips of a nervous boy. How Ginny put up with it, she'd never know!

Then, in fourth year, Ginny was dating a Ravenclaw named Michael Corner. He was the Ravenclaw slut, or so Luna had heard. She told her friend and, soon after, Ginny had dumped him. Luna was glad she had saved her friend. But it worried her that Ginny still dreamed of Michael's kisses. From what Luna had seen of the couple snogging, they looked like overeager puppies. Yuck!

Fifth year, Ginny was dating Dean Thomas, the tall, quiet black boy in Harry's year. Luna liked Dean, but could not understand why Ginny and Dean fought so much. Why be with someone with whom you constantly disagreed? As Luna thought, Ginny broke up with Dean before the end of the year.

And sixth year. The star couple. Ginny and Harry. Luna almost choked on her pumpkin juice the first time she caught them snogging. It was so gross she felt her lunch come up. Luna didn't know which was worse: Potter's feigned unfamiliarity with girls, or Ginny's attempts at innocence. Luna knew that Ginny had shagged Dean and Michael, but should she let Potter believe his best friend's sister was innocent?

She sighed and shook her head. It's none of my business, she told herself. Harry could look after himself and Ron would have told him by now. The boys were best friends. Or at least, Ron should have told him by now.

If Ron wasn't so busy with Hermione. Double yuck! Luna groaned. Another gross couple. Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. It had been bad enough when, during the Yule Ball, Hermione had showed up with that super dreamy Quidditch star Viktor Krum. In person, Krum was all muscle. But once he started talking, Krum had some very good ideas about animal rights. Luna completely agreed and became a Krum-supporter after their unexpected chat.

Ron and Harry had taken the Patil twins as their Yule Ball dates, if Luna remembered correctly. Luna like the Patils. They were nice girls. But she felt bad for them. Harry couldn't dance and Ron was completely disinterested. Men! Luna decided. Triple yuck!

The ABSOLUTE WORST! The prize winner for worst couple EVER invented, was, Luna mused, Ron and Lavender Brown. Yup. That pretty in pink princess and a completely idiotic dolt made her gag so hard she wished she was drunk.

Luna thought about her friends' relationships and sighed, feeling lucky she wasn't paired up.

Until she tripped and caught the gaze of someone who had never been heard of before: Rolf Scamander.


	3. I Drink to You

Written for #4 in The Challenging Challenge prompts by Sable Supernova.

This drabble is dedicated to and written for playwright82. I was inspired by your story "I Ride Your Broom", though I know my humble writing cannot compare with your lovely canon-compliant fics. (I suck at canon-compliant, so this is my attempt.) ^^

(I did edit this a bit so it would flow better.)

Word count: 337

* * *

Angelina sat in the Great Hall, not willing to believe the sight in front of her eyes. Fred Weasley was lying on the floor. Dead.

At Fred's funeral, she felt - empty. Like something had died inside of her. Slipping away, she Disapparated to the ruins of Hogwarts castle. Skirting the grounds, she arrived at the lake where she, Fred, George and Lee had often skipped class and tickled the tentacles of the Giant Squid. She laughed at the memory and looked over to where Fred sat. Except, he wasn't there now.

Disappointed, she Apparated to Hogsmeade. She remembered sharing a drink and a kiss with Fred at the Three Broomsticks. She entered and looked around the empty establishment. A bar stool keeled over. She picked it up as a bottle rolled off the counter. Curious, she walked over and saw two faded letters on the label: AW.

"Fred," she prayed, suddenly inspired. "If you're listening, please hear me. Give me a sign. Show me what to do, love."

As if in answer, instinct told her to pocket the bottle.

* * *

Angelina liked to visit Fred on unimportant days. But today was special. She propped an empty butterbeer bottle against a bouquet of sweet peas.

"Happy birthday, Fred!" she said shyly. "Our two beautiful babies always want to know about their fathers. I yell at George a fair bit, but it's not like I never yelled at you." Her lips curled into a cat-like smile. "I could always tell the difference between you two. I hope you'll forgive me when I see you on the other side. If I'm lucky, George won't overdo it, trying to live life for both of you. I don't want to be widowed twice by twins!" She laughed, imagining Fred's face. Even in death, Fred looked the same to her.

Angelina let one tear fall for 1 April. Saving the rest for years to come, she opened another bottle. Toasting Fred, she drank it.


	4. About Time

Written for a prompt - sadness (word), Alice/Frank Longbottom (pairing), snowing (weather conditions)

I didn't make up a surname for Alice. She's just Alice. Because I like just Alice. XD (Reminds me of Alice in Wonderland, too) :3 haha

Word count: 1589

* * *

It was sixth year. Frank woke up excited. Today was the day he was going to ask Alice. It was time to ask her the big question. If only he wasn't so nervous.

Frank dressed hurriedly, remembering today was the first Hogsmeade weekend of November. Racing down to the Great Hall for breakfast, he thought about a plan.

First, he'd take Alice to the Shrieking Shack. He looked up at the ceiling. Big flakes of snow fell, mimicking the weather outside. Yep, it was snowing. Perfect!

Then, Frank planned, munching on eggs and bacon, they'd go to Honeydukes and the other shops. Finally, they'd finish at the Three Broomsticks. A bottle of butterbeer always made the day cheery. Maybe he'd buy her something at one of the shops.

Frank looked around the tables, but didn't see Alice. Ah, knowing her, she was probably still asleep. He smiled to himself and headed back to Gryffindor Tower.

Once in his dorm, Frank readied his plans. He would take enough money to pay for Alice, like a true gentleman. Mum would have his guts if he didn't! Thank goodness he had worked over the summer at Uncle Algie's shop, making some extra money for times like this. Hopefully, Alice would be up by now.

Frank magicked a note to fly to her and carried it down to the Great Hall. Entering the room again, he spotted his girl surrounded by a group of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Alice was a popular girl. She was so nice to everybody, she had long reddish-brown hair, and her eyes were blue-grey. She was perfect.

After sending off his note, Frank sat down and tried to look inconspicuous. Of course, his plan failed stupendously. As the Gryffindor Beater, Frank was immediately swamped by his own group of friends.

In between conversations, Frank glanced up and caught Alice's eye. She had received his note and was pleased, if her smile was anything to go by.

At eleven, Frank met Alice by the Hogsmeade platform.

"Well, that went over well," Alice laughed, seeing Frank's expression. Frank's long brown hair was unusually tousled.

"You look beautiful, sunshine," Frank said, kissing Alice's forehead.

Alice blushed, not used to showing affection in public.

"Frank," she whined, pulling on his jumper.

"Oh, all right. Let's go!" Frank wrapped his arm around her shoulders and the two trudged off through the snow.

Their footprints made perfect tracks in the snow as they crossed Hogsmeade village, making their way towards the Shrieking Shack.

"You know," Frank said, "I heard a rumour about the Shack."

"Oh, really?" Alice teased, eyeing Frank carefully. Running around with the Prewett brothers had given Frank a joking side. Half the time, Alice wasn't sure if Frank was serious or joking.

"I heard," Frank lowered his voice to a whisper, "that the Shack is haunted to keep out lovers." He tickled Alice mercilessly until the two fell into the snow.

"Ah! Frank! Stop!" Alice yelled, sounding happy despite her protests. She wasn't doing much to keep him off her, anyway.

Frank loved when Alice laughed. She was so perfect.

They finally reached the Shack and after about five minutes, Frank got bored. As usual, Alice thought sadly.

Does Frank get bored of everything? she wondered, stealing a glance at her boyfriend. She sullenly hoped he wouldn't get bored of her. Mind racing, Alice was lost in thought and didn't realize they had turned back towards the village.

"What's wrong?" Frank asked, frowning. Shaking Alice and getting no response, Frank said louder, "Hey, Alice. What are you thinking?"

"Hmm? Oh, sorry, Frank, I was, um, well, thinking." Feeling embarrassed about her doubts, Alice shivered. "Brr! It's cold out here, Frank. Come on!"

Frank felt a small cloud of sadness wash over him. Was Alice losing faith? Was she thinking of someone else?

Jealousy got the better of him. And Frank had never dealt with jealousy well.

"Sorry," Alice said, pushing her way through the crowd. "Excuse me. Passing by, sorry." She ducked and threaded her way through the crowd until she approached a rather large boy.

"Sorry," Alice said, ducking around the boy.

"'Scuse you," the boy replied, blocking Alice's way.

"Sorry, I was just trying," Alice started to say.

"I know you," the boy leered. "Alice the Hufflepuff. What a catch, finding their precious little Chaser."

Alice was quickly losing interest, eyeing the nice warm pub behind the boy. But before she could even speak, Frank was by her side.

"Hey," he said, his threat losing its power as he huffed, "stay away from her!"

"Ah, the brave little Gryff, coming to rescue his princess," the boy sneered. "Looks like some fun." Several Slytherin boys sidled closer to the speaker.

Frank eyed them all warily. "Very well, take me on, then. See how you like it." He was brave, but he'd defend Alice for all he was worth.

The Slytherin boy was left on his own. Frank was a good dueler, as shown in class.

"Ack, you're not worth my time, squirt," the Slytherin said, deciding it'd be better to stop harassing Frank and Alice. "Let's go," he said to his mates. The Slytherin gang left the area, headed towards the less reputable Hog's Head Pub.

"Well, that went well," Alice drawled, rolling her eyes.

Frank smiled, "But I saved you, honey." He was teasing her, doing his best imitation of Sirius Black.

Alice hit his arm playfully.

"Just because you heard Sirius asking out Marlene, does not mean you can try that on me, Frank."

Alice had meant to scold Frank. Instead, she found she was holding his hand.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" Frank asked, gripping her hand tighter. Stepping back, he did some fancy footwork before twirling her around and around in the snow. He loved watching her long hair spread out around her. It was like he was looking at an angel. An angel of beauty.

"Your eyes are shining," she whispered in his ear. "Come on, I'm getting cold."

Frank nodded and allowed Alice to lead him into the Three Broomsticks.

Hours later, they left Hogsmeade with two bottles of butterbeer and bags of candy weighing down their pockets.

"So this is it," Frank said, looking back at the small village.

"This is it," Alice agreed, nodding.

"I think it's about time, don't you?" Frank asked.

Suddenly, Alice felt tears slipping down her face. Was Frank going to break up with her? An unbearable thought crossed her mind. What if Frank had found another girl? Her heart hurt in places she never knew could feel hurt.

"Alice?" Frank asked, worried.

"Frank? Is it over?" Alice asked, voice cracking.

"What?! No!" Frank was confused. Then suddenly, he smiled. "Oh, I get it. You're trying to pull one over on me. Okay, Alice, I fell for it."

Alice sobbed even harder.

"Frank Longbottom, you are unbelievable!" Alice ran. She didn't know where. But she couldn't stand to see his simpering face for one more second.

"Wait! Alice!" Frank yelled. "Argh! Save me from unpredictable women," he muttered, chasing after her.

"Alice! Please, Alice," Frank begged, tripping in the snow. He fell, going down in slow motion. "Ouch," he mumbled, scrambling to stand again.

Alice turned in time to see him on the ground. Stopping, she started to walk towards him.

"Alice, please, listen to me. I wasn't going to break up with you. I was actually going to ask you, well," he flushed, becoming nervous.

"Yes?" Alice said, voice full of curiosity.

Frank sat in the snow, not having the strength to stand up.

"Will you marry me, Alice?" he asked, voice soft. She had to lean in to hear him. "Will you, Alice? I love you like the -"

"Oh, save it, Frank," Alice said, exasperated.

Frank's face fell. He couldn't look at her beautiful face. Even when she was crying she was pretty.

"Of course I'll marry you, you dolt! I just wanted to give you the same feeling I had! What is with men and going around things all the wrong way?" Alice giggled.

Frank immediately stood up, suddenly finding energy. Sweeping Alice up in his arms, he kissed her soundly on the lips.

"Alice, I knew you had some Prewett in you!" Frank teased.

"Oh, don't go all soft on me now, Frank. I still have some tricks up my sleeve." Alice flashed him a sinful smile.

Frank laughed. All sadness was now forgotten. Frank carried her the whole way back to the castle.

"I will write and tell Mum. Would you like to stay with us for the holidays?" Frank asked, knowing Alice hated going home. Her parents had a falling out and ever since third year she had been staying with distant relatives.

"Love to," Alice replied, soundly snogging her fiance.

"I'm so glad I asked you," Frank whispered in between kisses.

"I thought you might never."

"You doubted me? How could you!"

"Because I started to think you'd get bored."

"Beautiful perfection is never boring. I will never bore you." Frank winked at her.

"Frank!" Alice scolded. "Come here!"

Augusta couldn't be happier for her son. Alice must finally be knocking some sense into that thick Longbottom skull. Laughing, Augusta set about making arrangements for two holiday guests.


	5. Gryffindor Courage

Inspired by a prompt from HarryPottersmystry about a Golden Trio Era character and artwork.

Dedicated to all those who find their courage at the darkest hour. (Note: I may come back and edit this so it reads smoother/flows better. For now, here it is as it once was on its own.)

Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry forum - Major & Minor Arcana, Assignment #3.

Prompt: Write about someone following the traditions or norms of their family, following in their parent's footsteps. Extra prompts: family, ritual.

Word count: 1619

* * *

Ever since he can remember, Neville Longbottom's parents have lived in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Each month, Gran-Gran takes poor Neville to the Janus Thickey Ward. When he visits, Alice Longbottom hands little Neville a bubblegum wrapper. During the summer, little Neville visits his parents every day, wanting to spend time with them before he has to go back to school.

Unlike other wizarding families, Augusta Longbottom believes it is best for Neville to attend a Muggle school in order to take his mind off the horrible fate of his parents. Augusta, who longs to be a good role model, wants the best for Neville and is afraid the boy will end up in St. Mungo's as well if he has no distractions. It is a Longbottom family rumour that Augusta shares Great-Uncle Algie's fears about Neville ending up a Squib. However, Great-Uncle Algie is proved wrong on Neville's eighth birthday and, to date, Augusta has neither confirmed nor denied said rumour as, "It is not for me to spread gossip! I have better things to do than stand around idle." Neville respects Gran-Gran because no one disrespects Augusta Longbottom and lives to tell the tale.

In his heart, Neville knows his family only wants the best for him. When Neville displayed his magical talents, Great-Uncle Algie was so happy, he gave his favourite nephew a pet toad to take to Hogwarts. Even Augusta, the feared Hufflepuff matriarch, shows compassion towards Nevile. They have so much in common. In the same night Neville lost his father, Augusta lost her son.

Each year, before he turns eleven, Neville is trundled off to an all-boy's boarding school out in the English countryside. And every year, on his birthday, Neville visits his parents during the summer holidays. Both Frank and Alice Longbottom have special gifts for their son they don't recognize. Somehow, Frank understands today is an important day. He fondly looks down at Neville and pats the boy's head. From one of his various pockets, Frank pulls out a feather. It's like a magic trick. Where he produces the feather from, Neville will never know. But the token is a treasure that Neville holds onto, as though the feather bears a message from his father. Instead of the bubblegum wrapper, Alice hands her son a dried flower, usually a tulip or wildflower, and a piece of candy. The candy is hard and stale, an old Honeyduke's confection. But Neville accepts it anyway. His eyes tear up because his mother never registers the flowers were from Gran-Gran.

At school, Neville is forced to take an array of classes he is not very good in. He takes math, science, English literature and history classes. He tries and does his best, but his grades are sadly abysmal. But somehow, he manages to scrape by and pass each year. When he returns the following year to raised eyebrows and muted sighs, Neville feels like melting into the floor. Or vanishing into thin air - becoming invisible. The best part about school, in Neville's opinion, are the greenhouses and the art studio.

The greenhouse is full of peace and serenity. It is the only open, airy environment the boys have unless they are allowed to go outside. The glass of the greenhouse allows copious amounts of sunlight into the otherwise dreary school. It is difficult for Neville to make friends here, especially when he is known as the boy to whom strange things happen.

Art class is the only subject Neville excels in. His art studio teacher praises his creativity and inventiveness. Neville feels like a fraud - he cannot see what is so delightful about his handful of drawings and art pieces made from feathers and bubblegum wrappers. But the praise makes him feel good. If only he could be accepted by his peers, instead of laughed at behind his back.

On Neville's eleventh birthday, he receives an owl post. He is used to the magical world, having grown up with owls being more common than postmen.

Neville tears open the envelope to see several thick pieces of parchment.

Dear Mr. Longbottom,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins 1 September. We await your owl no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

A list of courses and equipment needed followed on the second piece of parchment. At the end, a note was tacked below the supplies.

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

Parents are reminded that first years are not allowed their own broomstick.

Neville read and re-read his acceptance letter. There must be a mistake. This couldn't be happening! He was clumsy and untalented. He was being accepted to the same school his parents had attended. Running inside to show Gran-Gran and Great-Uncle Algie, Neville was bursting with excitement. Gran-Gran burst into tears, she was so happy. All three of them went to visit Frank and Alice.

Despite their inability to understand what was happening, Frank and Alice sensed their son's happiness. In the only way they knew how, Neville is convinced they told him they were happy for him. Frank smiled and tapped Neville's head. Laughing like it was a joke, Frank shook Neville's hand. Man to man.

Alice pet her son's head, untangling the short dark hair. She endlessly babbled about some mundane topic that didn't make any sense to Neville. He indulged her whim and, at the end, was presented with a piece of parchment. Inside was a picture. A moving photo, a magical photograph, taken of his parents when they were very young. Neville took the photo, wondering for the millionth time where his parents had their belongings. He didn't see how they whipped items out of nowhere if they, supposedly, couldn't do magic. He set his thoughts aside. Today is his eleventh birthday. Tomorrow he would have more time to ponder impossible things.

Gran-Gran later explains the photograph to Neville. It was the original Order of the Phoenix from the year before he was born. His parents were a great wizard and witch who had been very capable. Both Frank and Alice had fought Lord Voldemort and his followers at least three times - and lived. It was when they were expecting Neville that they had been caught by Lord Voldemort's best Death Eaters.

Great-Uncle Algie hates any mention of Death Eaters. He blames himself for not being there. For not protecting his nephew.

Gran-Gran blames no one. She places the photograph face down in her lap and rewraps it for Neville. She says she does not want the reminder in her house. Neville understands, but takes the picture anyway. He stares at his parents for hours.

Frank Longbottom was a handsome young man in a plain, ordinary fashion. He had no airs about him, but his smile made his face charming. Alice Longbottom was a beautiful woman. Slightly shorter than her husband, she is thin and willowly whereas Frank is blocky, stocky muscles straining against his jumper.

Neville has his mother's face, but his father's body. He is tall for his age, or so people say. He's pudgy, a testament to Frank's broad-shouldered frame. Gran-Gran doesn't admit it, but Neville sees it in her eyes. If his face was more square, he'd be the spitting image of his father. As it is, his face is rounded, like his mother's. Great-Uncle Algie expects a lot from Neville because Frank and Alice were extraordinarily talented. Frank excelled in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms. Alice received an O on her N.E.W.T.s in Transfiguration and Herbology, as well as an E in Charms.

It is finally 1 September. The day dawns bright and early. Neville places the last items in his trunk. His collection of feathers and bubblegum wrappers, the bag of candies his mother has given him, and the photograph of the Order. He has already started his newest creation. When it is complete, Neville will have a small four by eight square of feather and bubblegum wrapper parents. Although he is loathe to break the ritual of visiting his parents, he knows he will see them during the Christmas holiday break. Until then, this picture is the closest he'll be to his parents. He hides it in his trunk, afraid the other children will make fun of him on the train.

At Hogwarts, Neville finds solace in Herbology class, the only class he doesn't struggle in. It reminds him of the art studio and sometimes he wonders why he isn't in Hufflepuff.

It is at the end of year House Point Ceremony when Neville discovers why he is in Gryffindor.

He is awarded House Points for standing up to his friends. The ten House Points needed to win Gryffindor the House Cup.

It's the end of the first school year and Gran-Gran couldn't be happier. Just like Frank, and to some degree Alice, Neville is taking his first steps towards becoming a great wizard. Even Great-Uncle Algie can see it. He buys Neville a plant for his achievements in Herbology. Great-Uncle Algie hopes the Mimbulus Mimbletonia helps shy Neville find his confidence.

Neither Great-Uncle Algie nor Gran-Gran realize Neville already has.


	6. All Grown Up

Written for a prompt "Why do you have cute frilly socks on?" (dialogue)

Word count: 1158

* * *

Little Angelina hated getting dressed. Even with the help of a house-elf, she hated the frilly clothes and all the stupid, hot layers. Despite the intense summer heat, Jordan and Marceline Johnson insisted that Angelina abide by the traditional pure-blood rules. And that meant wearing three layers of clothing. An underskirt, a slip and a dress. Yuck!

Angelina made a face as Penny helped her little mistress put socks and shoes on.

"No tights today, Penny," Angelina had protested when Penny first arrived.

"Very good, Miss," Penny replied, bowing. The shoes she had chosen for Angelina were made for socks, anyway.

Angelina sighed in relief as the last string was tied and Penny adjusted the pins in her hair.

"One last thing," Penny said, holding up a ribbon. With a snap of her small fingers, the ribbon magically tied itself into a bow, nestling itself in Angelina's hair.

Angelina admired herself one more time before she made a face.

"Come," Penny instructed, holding out her hand. The house-elf led the girl downstairs.

"Ah, Angelina, darling," Marceline said, holding out her arms.

Penny pushed Angelina into the room before closing the doors.

"Mother," Angelina replied stiffly, walking slowly towards her parents. The hug was awkward, as Marceline didn't want to mess up her make up.

"Child," Jordan said, smiling down at her.

"Hello, Father," Angelina curtsied.

Jordan studied his daughter carefully and then frowned. "My child, just what are you wearing? That is no way for you to go out tonight."

Angelina looked down at herself. "Father," she said, "whatever is the matter?"

Marceline tugged at Jordan's shirt as if in warning, but Jordan did not listen.

"Why do you have cute frilly socks on?" Jordan demanded.

"But, Father, they're my favourite socks!" Angelina cried.

"You will not be seen in those - disgusting - things!" Jordan paled as if to mention such pink frilly cuteness was a disease. "Go to your room and change!"

"Fine!" Angelina yelled, storming off. "Penny! she called, racing upstairs once she was out of her parents' sight. "Penny!"

The house-elf materialized at her call. "Yes, Miss," Penny said, bowing.

"Oh, Penny, Father doesn't like my socks!" Angelina wailed.

"Come here," Penny ordered, leading Angelina into her bedroom. "Let's change them."

Angelina went back downstairs with black tights on instead of pink socks trimmed with white lace.

The downstairs rooms were deserted. No one was present in the house. Running through all the rooms, Angelina finally sat down and cried herself to sleep. Her parents had done it again. They had left her behind because she didn't dress properly.

Penny sadly eyed the little girl. Soon enough, Angelina would understand the way of the world. For now, Penny moved Angelina to her room.

When the master and mistress returned, they were soaked from the rainstorm.

"Penny," Jordan called.

"She's asleep, Master," Penny replied, appearing at the top of the stairs.

"Very good. She must not yet know," Jordan said.

"Of course, Master." Penny bowed and vanished with a pop.

"Jordan," Marceline looked at her husband.

"Marcy, she is too young."

"I know. But she is so beautiful."

"I still can't believe she is only ten. She's almost as tall as you," Jordan joked.

Marceline gave him a cat-like smile as she settled in the most comfortable chair. "But I worry about presenting her."

"I know. She will be ready. In time," Jordan murmured, pressing his lips against Marceline's hand.

"I know. Our baby has grown up all too fast," Marcline mused. "Where did the time go? I remember our honeymoon as if it was yesterday."

"I loved that canal. It was beautifully empty." Jordan smirked. "Would you care to go back?"

"Jordan! We can't do that, not with all the pure-blood nonsense about to start!"

"Yes, I worry about how she will fare. So far, the only boys she has exhibited an interest in are the Montague's son and little Bletchley. It would be simple enough if she was interested in one more than the other, but several families have expressed an interest in meeting her." Jordan sighed, raking a hand through his hair.

"I know, buttercup, this is a difficult time. But if she's anything like us, hopefully the arrangements won't be so hard to make."

Marceline and Jordan sighed when Angelina told them she was sorted into Gryffindor House.

"There goes the easy arrangements," Jordan moaned, sitting down to write another letter.

"Why does she have to have Aunt Eloise's rotten luck?" Marceline whined. "Gryffindor! UGH! Why couldn't she be a good little Ravenclaw?"

"Or a nice Slytherin?" Jordan wondered. "Now we have to increase her bride price."

"It's not like we don't have the money," Marceline tried to soothe him.

"That's not the point! It will make other families wonder why."

"I know, I know." Marceline bit her lip. "I don't like this, either."

"Why is our little angel such a non-traditionalist?"

"Maybe this will all work out for the best," Marcy said hopefully.

And then they received an owl from Angelina saying she made it onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Jordan and Marceline gave up their daughter as a hopeless case, saying, "Maybe Quidditch will knock some sense into her.

"I've heard the Weasley boys are interested in her," Marceline said carelessly.

"Perish the thought. I still can't believe they're distant cousins."

"Darling, they're pure-bloods, too."

"Yes, honey, I suppose our little Angel could do worse."

When the news came, it was much, much worse. Angelina had been proposed to by a fellow Quidditch player and he wanted to take her up north.

"North!" Jordan cried.

"How far?" Marceline asked.

"Oh, you know, the North Pole," Angelina said without batting an eye.

"Why are you going there?" Jordan interrupted his wife.

"Because, Father, the northern lights are supposed to be beautiful this time of year." Angelina smiled sweetly at her new husband. "Besides, now is the only time we can go, before the school term starts. Viktor still has one more year left."

"This is Viktor Krum?" Jordan's mouth hung open. "Can I have your autograph?"

"Sure," Viktor smiled.

"Honey, I'm not quite sure," Marceline began again.

"It's alright. I'm Viktor's biggest fan!" Jordan said gleefully as Krum signed a victorious photograph for Mr. Johnson.

Angelina shook her head as Marceline continued to pout and Jordan's eyes sparkled like tiny stars.

"C'mon," she whispered, tugging Viktor outside. "Sorry 'bout that."

"It's alright," Viktor shrugged, used to fans of all ages.

"Let's go!" Angelina looked at him with puppy eyes, he just had to give in.

"Very well," Viktor smiled, every bit the perfect gentleman.

They Apparated to the dock where their boat was waiting for them to start their honeymoon.


	7. The Hollow Doll

Probably AU elements as I forget the actual details. Anyway, written for prompts. If you don't like the characterization, go write your own fic!

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) forum - Chocolate Frog Cards

(Bronze) Beaumont Marjoribanks; Prompt: In your story, someone has taken credit for another person's work.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) forum - Gringotts Prompt Bank

Prompts: Morfin Gaunt, Riddle Era, "I haven't spoken to my wife in years. I didn't want to interrupt her." - Rodney Dangerfield, "All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair." - Mitch Albom, The Hollow Doll

Word count: 849

* * *

Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr. hated his namesake. A disgusting Muggle man who wouldn't even acknowledge Merope's existence.

When confronted with his biological son, Thomas Riddle, Sr. refused to acknowledge his heritage.

"I haven't talked to my wife in years. I didn't want to interrupt her," Tom Riddle, Sr. spat, taunting his alleged son. "I don't even think that bitch is alive. Who's to say you're really my son? Huh? Maybe you're just here for blackmail. She always said she was a witch - right! As if I'd believe that nonsense."

"You were infatuated with her," Tom speaks softly to his father, disgust evident in his manner.

"I was not! She did something to me."

"Because she was a witch." Tom's patience had run out. Lord Voldemort would soon reign. But first, he'd have to get rid of his Muggle line. Purge the world by ridding his ancestors of the horror that was the Riddle family.

"There's no such thing! Get out of my house, you lout!" Tom Riddle, Sr. shouted, pale face becoming sweaty as his son raised a wooden wand. "What's that?" he asked before a blinding green light shot through his body.

"Avada Kedavra!" Lord Voldemort roared. Satisfied, he left the house that now had three new corpses. Holding his horcrux, the ring, Lord Voldemort arrived at the Gaunt house and performed a memory charm on his uncle, Morfin.

Not long after, Ministry officials came to call. Morfin Gaunt freely admitted to the crimes of murdering three Muggles in cold blood. His wand proved his words, and that was enough for an immediate arrest.

Morfin's representative argued, "All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, other crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair. Morfin is the product of his father, Marvolo, a man well-known for his abusive, intolerant behaviour. The Gaunt family, like many pure-blood families, is so inbred that it is not surprising Morfin has issues. Please consider his mental state before making your final decision. The man is not in his right mind, nor has he ever been, really, when you think of his squalid living arrangements, his harsh father and his sad sister, who died an ignominious death in a Muggle hospital."

But even these words could not save Morfin Gaunt. The facts and his own confession weighed too heavily on the Ministry's mind. Morfin was duly convicted and sentenced to Azkaban prison indefinitely.

No one except Dumbledore stumbled upon the truth. And it took the great man many years and a final confrontation with Morfin before Albus learned the truth. It was a pity Morfin died six months before Dumbledore had sufficient evidence. Morfin's name could have been cleared and he would have been released. As it was, Dumbledore managed a posthumous Ministry pardon.

Dumbledore took his time, using both spies and interrogations of Muggles, until he was certain that Morfin could not have murdered the Riddle family. For one, a newcomer, a young boy, had been spotted in the neighbourhood around the time of the murders. A boy who looked vaguely familiar - like a young Riddle. Everyone supposed he was new, having never seen him before.

The cunning and cruelty by which the Riddles were murdered also gave Dumbledore a clue. Morfin was not known to simply kill. He liked to play with his Muggles first. Here at the crime scene, Dumbledore had seen three corpses, two of which had clearly been taken by surprise. Murdered without torture or any sign of awareness of their killer. This all hinted of Lord Voldemort's doing, not Morfin Gaunt's.

The only tortured soul was Tom Riddle, Sr. Dumbledore sighed. Why did every villain in the Big History Book of Villains have daddy issues?

But Fudge would not listen to Dumbledore's words. A child, a school boy, committed murders? Really, just because Dumbledore mistrusted the boy...

Fudge, who had considerable power in the Ministry, would not budge on his position. Dumbledore sighed. His friend was probably right that the Ministry wouldn't listen, but Dumbledore had to press his point.

It wasn't until Lord Voldemort's name became common knowledge that Dumbledore was finally heard. The Ministry finally listened, but it was all too little, too late. Morfin was dead. Dumbledore's efforts had been wasted. He felt hollow inside, like he hadn't accomplished anything.

Dumbledore rested his head against the cool windowpane of his office. He steeled himself to face the truth. He now had a new threat, a new enemy, on the horizon. This time, he would be listened to. The Ministry would take his announcements seriously. He was a great wizard, but he could not alone hold back the storm. This time, there would be no major duel like the one he had with Gellert. No, this time the stakes were high. The world was in peril.

The Dark Lord was rising.


	8. His Favourite

Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) forum - Arithmancy, #5

Prompt: write about one of the physical body attributes (touch, smell, taste, pleasure, pain)

Word count: 525

* * *

Nagini hissed, flicking her forked tongue outwards from her mouth. She slithered forward slightly as her body wriggled, elongating and stretching with every flick of her tongue. She smelled the air - tasted the air - whatever Master had called it. It smelt like blood and fear. She grinned, as far as a snake is able to, her bright eyes alight with mirth. She would feast well tonight.

Her Master had found her some time ago. Nagini was never sure when she had met her current Master. Over her lifetime thus far, a very long lifetime for a snake, she had had several Masters. Most hadn't lasted long. They certainly hadn't felt like much in her stomach, but that was beside the point.

She adored her current Master because first and foremost, he was able to speak with her. She didn't know how and she never asked. Somehow, her current Master had learned the art of Snake Hissing. He called it a funny name. Parseltongue. Her tongue slipped up trying to say such a funny word. She laughed, giggling as much as a snake is allowed, at that thought of pronouncing a foreign word.

Master was a good man who always fed her fresh meat. She loved that about him. No day old carcass, no rotten meat. Fresh blood and fresh food. Most of the time, he let her catch her prey. She loved the exercise, although lately she had her suspicions that Master was becoming more and more tired.

Master was overworking himself, Nagini decided with a nod of her small head. Yes, that must be it. Master had been - what was the word again? Oh, right, recruiting. Nagini rolled her eyes. Recruiting WEAKLINGS! she thought, smirking. Her amber eyes enlarged as she expressed her feelings about Master's underlings. They were all weak and undeserving. That was why Nagini was Master's favourite.

Wait, Nagini paused. Was she his favourite? She hesitated. It was so hard to tell what Master thought sometimes.

As if in answer to her question, she felt her Master's call. It was a soft tug at the corner of her mind. It had puzzled her at first, she remembered, but now she knew what it meant. It was his way of calling for her to appear before him. As gentle as it was, it also doubled as a lead, leading her straight to Master's side.

Nagini would never understand how or why this bond worked, but she knew in that moment, whenever he called upon her, that she was his favourite.

Tasting the air again with her tongue, she was satisfied. This man Master had brought before her was perfect.

She lunged, unhinging her jaws. Quick as a flash, she gulped down the poisoned, petrified man.

Burping lady-like, Nagini settled at her Master's feet.

"Nagini," he hissed, satisfied with her efficiency.

"Master," she replied in a reverent tone.

"Come." He turned on his heel, not bothering to check behind him. He didn't have to look to know she was following him. That's why Nagini was his favourite.

And smug Nagini knew it.


	9. White Oblivion

Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) forum - Astronomy, #5

Prompt: write about somebody making a sacrifice.

Word count: 1011

* * *

Quirinus Quirrell was a strange squirrel.

That's what the children said, behind his back. Professor Quirrell knew he was teased for his stuttering and his appearance of weakness. It slightly irked him that the children cowered in fear from people like Professors McGonagall and Snape. Having been taught by McGonagall once upon a time, Quirrell understood the students' respect for her towering figure. However, the truth was Snape was teased just as much as Quirrell. But the students were more wary of Professor Snape swooping in on them and took extra precaution when even mentioning that sacred name.

Unlike Professor Snape, Professor Quirrell was a good man who had had an unfortunate incident with a vampire in Albania. Ever since that encounter, he was left a stuttering wreck.

Or so he let everyone believe.

In truth, Quirrell had sacrificed his reputation as a young, hardworking, ambitious man to serve the One Dark Lord to Rule Them All. In the forests of Albania, he had not discovered a vampire. He had found Lord Voldemort's spirit.

Through a heart-wrenching, soul-breaking experience, Quirrell agreed to harbour Voldemort's soul within his own body. Sacrificing his beautiful and refined appearance, Quirrell became a turbaned freak. An outcast who was patted on the back and referred to as 'a poor dear boy.'

The exchange didn't take long at all - a few minutes at most. But the pain.

It was the most excruciating torture Quirrell had ever experienced. Even the Cruciatus Curse was nothing to the feeling of having one's soul being sucked away.

He became a sallow, thin man when he returned to London. Everyone commented on his change. He had to think of something. And so the rumour of the vampire started.

Quirrell never liked to admit he had been bested by an imaginary 'vampire.'

"Pish-posh," he thought to himself, "as if vampires really exist!"

"Be careful, my boy," Lord Voldemort mind-spoke to him, "they really, really do."

In his mind, Quirrell imagined a handsome Voldemort smiling down upon him.

"Ah, forgive me, My Lord," Quirrell bowed.

"Oh, do get up! And stop with this 'My Lord' thing, alright? It gets annoying when I know everything you think and say."

Quirrell cowered a little at Lord Voldemort's tone.

"Oh for love of -" Voldemort exhaled forcefully and then took a deep breath in. "I'm sorry for losing my temper. It really gets to me, being confined in this cage."

"My body isn't a cage!" Quirrell yelped, forgetting his place.

"Insolence!" Voldemort cleared his throat. "Ah, excuse me. We share everything, Quirrell. There is no need to think we are not equals."

The honeyed tone of Voldemort's voice washed right over Quirrell. The young man was enamoured of his Lord and wanted nothing more than to please. What a clever lap-dog, Voldemort thought, looking into Quirrell's adoring eyes. The boy will do anything, just about anything.

"Steal the Philosopher's Stone," Voldemort ordered.

"Yes, m'Lord." Quirrell bowed again.

"Now, let's talk about this party. What did you wear and who did you see?" Voldemort adopted a very girly manner as he demanded to know everything about Quirrell's friends and the girls he met.

"I thought you knew, My Lord," Quirrell began.

"Just because I'm in your mind doesn't mean I can see with the turban covering me up!" Lord Voldemort practically screeched.

"Oh, right, right," Quirrell quickly placated Lord Voldemort by plunging into a detailed explanation of the party, the purpose and the guests of honour.

"Ah, so you didn't see any of my old crowd. Well, well, I wonder what Bellatrix and Lucius are up to," Voldemort mused.

"I'm sure I could find out," Quirrell said, wanting to please.

"No!" Voldemort snapped.

"I'm sorry," Quirrell whimpered.

"No, no, I'm sorry, my pet," Voldemort said in a more jovial tone, patting Quirrell's head. "Come, let us start our preparations."

And yet, despite Quirrell's eagerness to please, Voldemort never was able to communicate with Professor Snape. That Potter-brat kept getting in the way, or Filch and his stupid Squib cat came running to Quirrell or Snape to do something about a student or three running around the corridors late at night. Needless to say, Quirrell never found anything.

It was finally time to set Voldemort's brilliant plan in action.

Quirrell was marvelous, spouting the words Voldemort planted in his head in order to get a rise out of the damned Potter boy.

But it still wasn't enough. Somehow, Potter's touch burned. Voldemort screamed in pain as Quirrell felt his skin blister.

"Master! I cannot hold him!" Quirrell screamed.

"BITCH!" Voldemort howled. "HOLD HIM, DAMMIT! OR SO HELP YOU, YOU LITTLE PATHETIC WEAKLING! HE IS JUST A BOY! GIVE ME THE BOY!"

Voldemort's voice had become a roar that echoed throughout the room. The lit torches flickered as his voice exploded in the tiny space.

"MASTER! I CANNOT! I CANNOT - AHHH!" Quirrell screamed, feeling his skin burning up. "I am burning, Master! Please, help me! Save me!"

Voldemort promptly shucked his skin and floated away.

"As your last act to me, I now relieve you of your duty," Voldemort regally proclaimed, mock-bowing as a ghost would. "Quirrell, it has been a pleasure, my old friend and servant. But now, I really must go find a new body."

Quirrell realized he had been played. His ambition had gotten him in far too deep and now he lay on the cold flagged stone, feeling his life source drain out of him. All he felt was warmth. And then he passed on.

The last conscious thought he had was, "Master, are you happy?"

Bliss overtook him. And intense cold.

It was a snowy morning at the train station. He wondered what was going on until he saw the waiting train. Without thinking, Quirrell hopped on board. The conductor gave the signal and, releasing steam, the train shuttled forwards into white oblivion.


	10. Wouldn't Miss It for the World

Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) forum - Charms, #5

Prompt: Consider the charm (the Bond of Blood) and write your story based on it.

Word count: 1171

* * *

Merope Gaunt stumbled into the Muggle hospital.

"Baby!" she muttered, frantic. "I'm having a baby!"

"Madam!" a nurse cried, running over. "Please, madam, sit down!"

Struggling, Merope collapsed on the floor. Her body convulsed.

"I need emergency help!" the nurse called, steadying Merope's prone form.

Immediately, four nurses rushed over and helped lift Merope onto a bed. Together, the five nurses helped Merope bring a beautiful baby boy into the world.

"His name is Tom," Merope said. "Tom, my darling. I'm here. I'm with you." Merope's head fell back as she went unconscious.

"She's not coming around!" the first nurse whispered, waving her hands around Merope's head. "What do we do now?"

"Well, we have her baby, Tom. Does anyone recognize this woman?" One of the oldest nurses asked, holding up the baby to clean him off.

"No, no, we don't recognize her," everyone said of Merope.

The old nurse sighed. "Very well, we shall have to inform her next of kin." Walking into her office, the oldest nurse closed the door. Once she was sure she was alone, she took out an old and battered wand. Waving her hands in complicated motions, she finally found the information she sought.

"I wish to speak with Albus Dumbledore," she spoke into the fire. When Albus's head appeared, the nurse wasted no time in getting to the point. "Do you, Albus Dumbledore, accept the Bond of Blood charm for this child, Tom?" the nurse asked a confused Albus.

Albus took one look at the boy and nodded his head in assent. "But he cannot live with me," Albus said.

"I know," the nurse acknowledged. "I know a place that will take him. A place where he will be safe from the Muggles. And the war."

Albus nodded. "Yes, the war is very important. Keep him safe. Keep him ignorant. For now. Soon enough he will know. Do you know who the father is?"

The nurse shook her head.

"Very well." Albus performed the Bond of Blood charm. As they were both pure-bloods, the bond held, although it was weak.

"He shall need to see me and meet me properly," Albus warned the nurse. "I must recharm the bond when we have a better understanding."

"Of course." The nurse sighed. "I am so glad it worked."

Albus looked at her suspiciously.

"I was afraid he was all Muggle," she explained.

"Oh, I see. Yes. Do you know who his mother is?"

The nurse shook her head. "No, I don't. She's - she's dead." A single tear slid down the old woman's face.

"Oh, my dear, I am so sorry." Albus was speaking to the child. The nurse held the child closer to the flames so Albus could see him better.

"Ah, he is beautiful. A beautiful baby for a beautiful woman, no doubt."

The nurse snorted. "If you had only seen her!"

Albus glared at the nurse. Startled, the nurse felt put in her place.

"Ah, I mean, oh, my! I must contact the orphanage!"

Albus sighed. "My dear," he told the baby, "I hope you will not have a hard life."

Each year, Albus visited the orphanage to renew the charms and protections placed around the building. Each year, he avoided seeing the boy.

Finally, Albus felt the pull of the bond. He could avoid the visit no longer.

"I am here to see Mr. Tom," Albus said, presenting himself as an old uncle, a long-time friend of the family.

"Very well," Mrs. Cole, the matron, said, allowing Albus inside. "I will get the boys ready."

"Alright," Albus said, content to wait.

"Thomas," Mrs. Cole said, separating the rowdy boys. "Tom, get your room ready for inspection."

"Yes, ma'am," Tom said, running to obey at once.

"He is ready," Mrs. Cole informed Albus, once Tom had cleaned his room.

"Very good. Leave us for a few minutes? I have some confidential information regarding the family. As I am not a legal guardian, I cannot take the boy, you understand."

"Of course," Mrs. Cole said firmly.

"But I do have news to tell him he would love to hear." Albus's blue eyes twinkled. His auburn hair gave him a handsome appearance that flattered Mrs. Cole.

"Very well, sir, you're all his today." She pampered and primped herself while Albus talked with Tom. My, what a handsome fellow, Mrs. Cole thought.

"Tom," Albus greeted the boy.

"Hello, sir," Tom said stiffly.

"I am here on a particular errand, Tom."

"Is it about the - the voices?" Tom whispered.

"Yes," Albus said vaguely.

"I can hear them. They tell me to do things. They tell me about things. I listen and I hear." The boy's eyes moved quickly around the room, darting back and forth as he spoke.

"What do they say?"

"Terrible things. About me and others." Tom frowned as he concentrated. "I can also talk to animals. Make them do things."

"What types of things?" Albus asked, concerned for the first time.

"All types of things. But, sir, is it normal?" Tom looked at Albus fully for the first time. "Is it normal to have these things happen to someone?"

"Well, Tom, did you mean them?"

"Mean what, sir?"

"Don't play dumb with me, lad. I know what you've done to those children."

Tom's eyes went wide with fright. "I didn't -"

"Yes, you did, Tom. You meant it."

"I-I thought they were going to hurt me," he confessed.

"Tom, you are powerful. You have powers none of the rest of the children here have. There is a safe place for you where you will find others like yourself. However, you must promise me this. You are NEVER to torture a fellow child or student at the school. Do you understand? School is a place for learning, not torture."

"Yes, sir."

"Very good."

"But, sir, who are you?"

"Oh, didn't I say?" Albus glanced casually around. He flicked his hand and lit the wardrobe on fire. Only the wardrobe burned. When he extinguished the flame, not a single burn mark was evident on the wood. Where scorch marks should be was plain wood. The wardrobe had remained unharmed.

"What was that?" the boy breathed, hardly able to contain his glee.

"That, my boy, was magic. And if you practice hard and learn control, you, too, can do that."

"You think so?"

"I know so." Albus smiled at the boy.

Tom, eyes shining, stared up at Albus, his hero.

"Thank you, sir," Tom said, shaking Albus' hand.

Albus surreptitiously conferred the Bond of Blood charm, securing it more firmly around Tom.

"Of course, Tom. Now, I will be back in a few weeks to escort you. Here is your letter. I will alert Mrs. Cole. Be ready by September."

Tom smiled at the parchment in his hand.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, sir," he said as Dumbledore left the building.


	11. Delicate Flower

Drabble written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) forum - Charms, #5 EC

Prompt: Write about Lily and Petunia.

Word count: 379

* * *

"You're a freak!" Petunia chanted, dancing around Lily. "Freak! Freak!"

"Stop it!" Lily shouted.

"Leave her alone," a cold voice interrupted.

"Severus," Lily smiled, running to her friend's side.

"You're just jealous, Tuney," Severus teased mercilessly.

"I am not!" Petunia cried, jumping up and down like a child having a tantrum.

"Don't be mean, Sevvy," Lily scolded her best friend.

"Sorry, Lily," Severus said, "but that's just how Petunia and I flirt."

"What?" Lily asked, confused.

"Didn't you know?" Petunia smirked at Lily as she moved to hold Severus' hand.

"This is very odd," Lily said. "Normally, Severus, you're trying to hex Petunia. Petunia, you're cowering in fear. And I'm usually stopping Severus from hexing you. Strange. Now, why are you two leering at me?"

Lily woke up with a gasp. "What a strange dream I had!"

"Lily!" Severus called.

Lily looked around. "What? Severus!" she called. "Where are you?"

"Look out your window!" came the reply.

Getting up, Lily obliged her friend and looked out the window. What she was was alarming, to say the least.

Petunia was holding Severus' face in her hands as she snogged him into the next full moon.

Severus, to Lily's amazement, looked to be in Heaven already, as he groped Petunia and hungrily devoured her mouth, tongues fighting for dominance.

Retching slightly, Lily fought to erase the sickening image from her mind.

The next morning, Petunia found Lily unconscious on the floor.

Giggling, Petunia kicked Lily's leg. "Lily!" she yelled. "Wake up!"

"What in the world?" Lily groaned. "Petunia!"

"I have a surprise for you," Petunia said, holding out her hands.

It was a homemade card for Lily.

"Oh, Petunia, how sweet of you."

"I'm sorry for calling you a freak, freak," Petunia said, sticking out her tongue.

"EWWWW!" Lily screamed as she fainted again.

"Mum?" Petunia asked her mother frantically. "Why did Lily faint when I stuck my tongue out at her? I don't have m-m-magic, do I?"

"Don't be silly, Petunia. Lily's a delicate flower."

Petunia rolled her eyes. She should have known! Everyone made a fuss about Lily. "Lily this," and "Lily that!" No one cared for poor Petunia, the older sister.


	12. What Are Friends

Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) forum - Defence Against the Dark Arts, #5

Prompt: Talk about Neville Longbottom and his emotions before, during and after his confrontation with the Golden Trio in First Year when he encountered the spell Petrificus Totalus. Extra prompt: Petrificus Totalus (incantation)

Word count: 978

* * *

Neville was nervous. Unbeknownst to Harry, Ron and Hermione, Neville had overheard their plans to go down that insane trapdoor tonight. It was guarded by a three-headed dog and they were sure Professor SNAPE, (of all people!), would be there!

Neville was sure to faint soon. He felt sweaty and clammy all over. Whenever his palms sweated, he knew he was in trouble.

There, he heard just the faintest creak. Neville remained seated in the overly large armchair by the now dead fire. Stilling his breaths, he waited.

Five, six, seven... he counted mentally.

The trio reached Neville's hiding spot.

"Alright," Harry said, not bothering to whisper in the Common Room. "We'll put the cloak on here. Once we get outside, we'll go down to the third floor. We may face Snape himself. I'm not sure. You two don't have to come with me."

"Don't be silly, Harry," Ron protested.

"You need us," Hermione said primly.

They adjusted some cloth, getting tangled up as they tried their best to remain calm and quiet.

Neville knew it was his time to act. He stood up and left his hiding spot.

"Oy!" he said in his bravest voice. Which meant he was trembling. Which he was. He looked down and saw his trembling, sweaty fists. "What are you doing?"

"Neville," Hermione said, approaching the other boy. "This isn't what it looks like."

"I know exactly what you're doing!" Neville accused them all. "You're sneaking out again! You're gonna get Gryffindor into way more trouble than whatever your task is worth."

"Neville, shut up!" Ron said, annoyed.

"Neville," Harry tried to appease the boy after nudging Ron. "This is really important -"

"So's not losing more House Points!" Neville countered. Harry was at a loss there. Really, if they didn't move soon, Snape would have the Stone!

Hermione was the only fast thinker amongst them.

"I'm really, really sorry about this, Neville," she said, whipping out her wand. " _Petrificus Totalus_!" She waved her wand in a simple swoosh movement.

Neville felt nothing at first. Once her wand movement finished and the last syllable was said, Neville felt his arms and legs clap together, his arms stiffly attached to his sides. His legs felt like they had melted into one long limb. Fumbling and unable to move, Neville tipped forward, his weight unbalanced. He tried to scream and found even his jaw had been clenched shut.

Mumbling random nonsense, Neville's eyes went wide with fear.

"You know," Ron gulped nervously, "you can really be scary sometimes. Brilliant, but scary." It was a nervous compliment, but Hermione took it anyway with a smile and a nod.

Hermione and Harry reset Neville's prone form so he was lying on his back on the Common Room rug.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Harry asked.

Ron prevented himself from saying, "Who cares?" just in time as Hermione answered, "Yes, he'll be fine. Remind me to remove the hex later when we get back."

"If we get back," Ron muttered, but shut up at a glare from Hermione.

"Sorry, Neville," Hermione said. She, at least, had the grace to blush as she exited the Common Room.

"Sorry, Neville," Harry said, patting Neville's stiff limbs.

"It's for your own good, you know that, right?" Ron remarked, before he, too, patted Neville and left Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

Neville had no idea how long he lay there.

At first he was shocked and scared. What was happening to him?

But then, he relaxed. Hermione had said he would be okay. And Hermione was never wrong.

Neville finally managed to close his eyes. Thank goodness the spell didn't affect his face (except for his mouth). But he tried not to focus on that.

Hours later, a tartan-clad Minerva found Neville sleeping on the Common Room hearth.

Upon further inspection, she found he was hexed. Removing the hex, she eased the boy into a chair and brought him some hot cocoa and plenty of biscuits.

"Who did this to you?" Minerva asked, frightened.

"Nobody," Neville said, hanging his head.

"Mr. Longbottom," Minerva said, sternly.

"Don't do anything to her. She was just trying to do what was best. And I was a fool," Neville hung his head even further as he told his tale.

Minerva smirked. She couldn't help it. Oh, the Weasleys were so amusing!

"Good job, Mr. Longbottom! Five points!" Minerva smiled and winked at him. "I'll be sure to tell Professor Dumbledore. He will be -" she waggled her eyebrows, "highly amused."

Neville gulped at that last part, amusing Minerva further.

"Hmm," she mused, waltzing away from Gyrffindor Tower to find Albus. "That boy is just too easy to scare!"

* * *

Neville was shocked when Harry, Ron and Hermione talked to him during the end of year feast.

"You alright?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, who got to you?" Ron asked as Harry nudged him in the ribs.

"Ow! Harry!" Ron yelped.

"No hard feelings, right?" Harry asked, extending his hand.

"I award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom!" Dumbledore announced.

"What?" Neville shot up in his seat.

"That means Gryffindor wins the House Cup!" Dumbledore clapped his hands and red and gold banners decorated the Great Hall.

"Neville!" and "Gryffindor!" were common cheers that morning. Finally, for the first time in eight years, Slytherin had not won the House Cup.

And it was all thanks to Neville Longbottom.

"I didn't do anything," Neville protested.

"It's all you, Neville," Harry, Hermione and Ron insisted.

"Friends?" Neville asked.

"Of course!"

Neville smiled. They really were best friends if you could hex someone one day and be totally chill the next. He wondered when would be a good time to introduce Harry, Hermione and Ron to his plant collection.


	13. What Are You, the Virgin Police?

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) forum - Muggle Studies, #6: Write about a relationship between two people which began with hatred or dislike and evolved into something much more.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) forum - Gringotts Prompt Bank: Severus/Petunia, "I'm so terrified of the nightmares that I just stopped falling asleep." - _Unknown_ , Towering, Alarm, Frighten, Shallow (word set), Scopophobia, "There's a good climate in heaven, but better company in hell."

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) forum - Chocolate Frog: Write about someone getting their revenge.

Word count: 1773

* * *

Lily was always torn between her two best friends. Petunia, her older sister and role model, had a marked dislike for Severus, the boy next door. Severus, to Petunia's dismay, took an immediate liking to Lily and always hung around the redhead, even when Petunia clearly showed her feelings about Severus. He was the son of a no-good man. The son of an alcoholic, lazy, good-for-nothing moocher.

Petunia made her views clear, in front of Severus himself and had humiliated Lily on several occasions. Finally, Lily had had enough.

"I can't take this anymore! I cannot keep choosing between my two bestest friends in the world!" Lily bawled, eyes tearing up. "I'm going to make you two sort things out so we can all be together like we once were!" So saying, Lily forced Petunia to go into Severus's house and made Severus allow Petunia into his room.

"Now," Lily smiled sweetly at her two most favourite people in the world, both of whom were sitting awkwardly on the floor of Severus's room. "I'm going to magically lock this door. After an hour, it will unlock. Until then, you two must talk and make up. Otherwise," Lily glared at them, her angelic demeanor disappearing completely, "I will not be seen with either of you until you resolve your differences." With a final "Hmmph!" Lily locked Severus and Petunia into the room and left them to their own devices.

Severus stared at the ceiling, refusing to look at Petunia.

Petunia hummed a church song while staring at the closet. She would not be the first one to break.

The two children sat in silence for fifteen minutes. Severus counted each minute, hoping Petunia would be the first to crack. Petunia thought about everything else but Severus.

"Argh!" Severus groaned. "Fine! I want this to be over so Lily will leave me alone."

"I want this to be over so I don't have to see your ugly face again," Petunia remarked.

"You're not even looking at me," Severus smirked.

Petunia turned towards him, then quickly looked away. "I told you so."

Severus stuck his tongue out at Petunia. "Oh, really, Tuney," he said in a sing-song voice just to annoy her.

"Yes, Sevvy," she replied just as sarcastically. "I despise your face and your voice. So quit it!"

"What if I don't want to?" he asked childishly.

"I'll make you!" Petunia shrieked, exasperated with Severus and Lily's childish games. "I'm too old for these silly, stupid games!" Turning around, Petunia pounced on Severus. "You will open that door and let me out of here!" Petunia demanded, hitting Severus's chest.

"Stop it!" Severus yelled, struggling to keep Petunia off him. "This is not what's supposed to happen!" he growled.

"Whatcha gonna do about it, huh, punk?" Petunia teased.

"This!" Severus took his wand out and pointed it at Petunia. He relished in the power he felt when Petunia stopped her assault, her face turning an ashen grey colour in alarm.

"Oh, no, you will not use magic on me!" she said, frightened. Her voice was shaky, a cue that gave Severus courage.

"Really," Severus sneered, feeling back in control again. "Think again!" His figure seemed to leap up and suddenly tower over Petunia.

Petunia shivered in her spot, muscles tensing as she feared what Severus might do.

"You know," Severus said, drawing back. "I don't know why we're getting angry at each other. Lily's the one who put us here."

Petunia slightly relaxed as she digested this new thought. "Yes, you know, you have a point there."

They stared at each other, startled.

"I mean, I'm not agreeing with you," Petunia hastily said, backpedaling. "But I can't argue against you. Lily did lock the door. Can't you magically unlock it?" she asked, eyeing Severus's wand.

"You looking at my wand?" Severus smirked, not able to stop himself from the quip.

Petunia blushed and mumbled something he couldn't hear.

"You think I'm shallow?" Severus asked.

"Yeah, 'course that's what I said," Petunia bluffed.

"Come on, you can tell me. After all, we _are_ supposed to become friends, according to Lily."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well, you know what I think?" Petunia asked.

"What?"

"I think Lily can go to Hell. I don't care what she says. She's my younger sister. She doesn't boss me around!" Petunia stomped her foot for emphasis.

"Hey, you know what they say? 'There's a good climate in Heaven, but better company in Hell,'" Severus joked.

"Did you just make a joke?" Petunia wondered, voice deadpan.

"No," Severus said, feeling the rebuke. "Why? Do you have scopophobia?" he snarled.

Petunia looked at him, startled. "Scopo- Scor- What?" she asked, bewildered.

"Sco-po-phobia," Severus said again, slowly, as if he was talking to a troubled or mental child. "It's a fear of being watched or looked at."

"No, I do not have scop-spoc- whatever you just said!" Petunia said indignantly without moving her eyes to his face.

"Then look at me," Severus demanded.

"No," Petunia refused.

"Do it!" Severus commanded. "Or so help me!"

"I do not have to look at you, Severus Tobias Snape!" Petunia snapped.

"NEVER call me that name!" Severus bellowed. Before he knew what was happening, he had raised his wand and was halfway through casting the Cruciatus Curse.

Petunia stared at him, horrified by his facial expression. Severus's right eyebrow was twitching uncontrollably while his eyes darted around the room. His mouth was moving quickly, mouthing words she couldn't follow. His fingers were trembling and his hand was so unsteady she could see it visibly shaking with the effort of holding up his wand.

"Sev," Petunia asked gently, "what's wrong?"

"I-I was about to do something - horrible," he whispered, slowly lowering his wand. "I - I don't want to talk about it."

Petunia nodded her head, understanding. "I once did a terrible thing to Lily." She swallowed hard before continuing. "I still can't really talk about it. I once pushed her into a lake. The water was shallow, but we were just kids. It was deep enough that Lily was completely underwater before I knew it. She couldn't swim, she was that young. She almost died. I said I didn't know what happened, but it was a lie. I knew exactly what had happened. If Da hadn't jumped in and saved her, I don't know what I would do." Petunia felt herself about to cry again. She sniffled lightly. "I'm still frightened, you know, of water. I became so scared I wouldn't even go into a pool, You know, I'm so terrified of the nightmares that I just stopped falling asleep. I keep imagining Lily drowning. Oh my God!" Petunia cried. "I can't!" She hugged herself as she cried.

Severus was completely shocked. He was so shocked by Petunia's confession, he found himself sitting next to her, soothing her and calming her down.

That's how Lily found them. Severus, with his arms wrapped around Petunia. Petunia, crying into Severus's shoulder.

"Oh, good! I'm glad you two made up!" Lily chirped, back to her normal bubbly self.

Petunia frowned. "You ruined a moment! We were having a moment! And you ruined it!"

"I know what this calls for!" Severus smirked. He looked at Petunia. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Revenge!" Petunia cried.

"Yes! And I know just what to do." Severus winked at Petunia.

* * *

"Tell me again, why are we here in this damp cellar?" James asked Lily.

Lily groaned. "Ugh! Because Severus and Petunia decided I needed a taste of my own medicine and magically locked us in here with non-magical objects."

Petunia giggled as she and Severus listened to Lily and James's conversation.

"They're not having much fun, are they?" Petunia laughed, licking her ice cream cone.

"Nope, not at all," Severus agreed, sharing the ice cream with her.

"Sev, you have your own!" Petunia slapped his hand lightly.

"But I want to share!"

"Every time we do this, you eat most of my ice cream!"

"Fine, fifty-fifty." Severus held his ice cream cone out to her. Petunia leaned forward and at the last second, Severus leaned forward, too, so Petunia kissed him instead of licking the ice cream cone.

"Eww!" Petunia gasped when she realized the switch. "Sev! No fair!"

"Fair's fair - isn't it like the poet said? 'All's fair in love and war'," Sev grinned.

"Oh, you!" Petunia grinned, kissing him properly. "Of course all's fair in love! Tag!" Petunia took off running.

"Hey!" Severus yelled, quickly getting to his feet.

"Come and catch me!" Petunia teased.

* * *

"Hey, isn't an hour up?" James whined.

"Yeah," Lily groaned. "I wonder what Petunia and Sev are doing."

"Hey, don't worry about them," James said. "How do we get out?"

"Oh, I don't know," Lily scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Maybe by using magic? We are a witch and wizard, after all."

"Oh, yeah, right!" James got to his feet and started blasting the cellar door.

Lily sighed and used the unlocking charm.

"Oh, I forgot about that one," James said sheepishly.

"Figures!" Lily huffed.

"Where're you going?" James called after her.

"I'm going to find my sister!" Lily shot back, leaving James far behind her. "Honestly, boys!" Lily thought to herself. "Why can't things be like the way they were before, just Petunia and me?" Lily sighed as she trudged back home.

Lily didn't find Petunia until much later that night.

"How was your day?" Lily asked angrily.

"I am so out of breath!" Petunia gasped, gulping down buckets of water. "I can't believe Sev and I were out all day."

"Hey! You called him 'Sev'!" Lily pointed out.

"Yeah," Petunia said, thinking about it. "Yeah, I do."

"What's the change?"

"He's not so bad. We bonded," Petunia smiled.

"I think there's more to this," Lily said.

"Well, I did kiss him."

"EWWWW! Petunia!" Lily screamed. "GROSS!"

"Sorry, gosh, what are you, the virgin police?"

"I sure hope you're still a virgin!"

"Lily Evans!"

"Mum!" Lily and Petunia yelped simultaneously.

"We were," Lily started.

"We were just talking about jokes," Petunia finished.

"I sure hope so," Mum replied, putting down the groceries.

"Busted," Lily mouthed.

"Lily, come help me with these groceries!" Mum called.

"Revenge," Petunia mouthed back.


	14. Lucky Dog

I messed up again. Oh well. I will do something else with this, then, but for now, here is the edited version. My bad T_T

/see, more proof I am 120% human xD teehee (I'm not perfect; perfect people exist, I'm sure. I've never met one.) XD hehe

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) forum - Speed Drabble: Hermione/Sirius, "You, my dear, are absolutely divine", chocolate

Word count: 451

* * *

Hermione went down to the kitchen and found Sirius the only occupant.

"Good morning," Hermione smiled cheerfully.

"Good morning, Hermione," Sirius responded. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks. You?" Hermione asked, looking around for something to make for breakfast.

"I'm good. Could've slept better, though."

"Yeah. Too bad it's hard to get sleep around here with Ron and the twins snoring!" The two shared a laugh at the Weasleys' expense.

"Speaking of which, how are you and Ron getting along? I know Dumbledore was worried about not making Harry a Prefect - for perfectly good reason."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably as she hunted through the refrigerator. "Um, well, I dunno," she finally said, finding a container of milk.

As Hermione got her bowl of cereal together, Sirius perused The Daily Prophet.

"Ah, too bad about the game," Sirius commented on the Sports section of the Prophet. "Appleby Arrows lost their place for the finals again."

"Oh, um, sorry?" Hermione said apologetically. "I don't keep up with sports."

"Pity," Sirius said with hardly any emotion in his voice. Standing up suddenly, Sirius asked, "You wouldn't happen to have any chocolate, would you?"

Hermione stared at the older man, confused. "No, I don't carry around large chocolate bars. Why do you ask?"

"Because I'm looking for something sweet," Sirius whispered before leaning down and kissing Hermione.

Hermione was shocked. Her eyes snapped open, brown eyes widening like a cartoon puppy. She felt her breath come in pants as the kiss deepened. It felt like someone was squeezing her chest until she would either collapse or break. Right now, it felt good and painful and - well, blissful.

Hermione sighed and leaned back, throwing her arms around Sirius's neck as the older man embraced her. Lifting her up, Sirius sat down in her place and settled her on his lap.

When Sirius broke the kiss, Hermione's eyes were glazed over in happiness. Sirius was speechless and took a moment to catch his breath.

Hermione recovered more quickly. "You, my dear, are absolutely divine."

Grabbing Sirius's face, Hermione leaned in for another snogging session.

Sirius's last conscious thought before intoxicating bliss overtook his mind was, "Man, I am one lucky dog!"

When Harry and Ron came down for breakfast later, Hermione and Sirius were sitting at opposite ends of the table. Hermione was profusely blushing and Sirius had laid the paper across his lap.

"Morning, Harry, Ron!" Sirius chirped.

"Morning, boys," Hermione mumbled, not taking her eyes from her cereal.

"Good morning, Hermione," Harry said, smiling. "Morning, Sirius!"

Ron didn't say anything. He just grabbed some food and smiled.

Hermione couldn't help laughing. Boys!


	15. Idiot Test

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) forum - Charms, #7: use at least two characters with one of them being manipulative and holding the other one back.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) forum - October Event "Bingo": "How old do you think I am?" / "Really old. Probably at least twenty-one."

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) forum - Chocolate Frog: Someone is cheering up another person in your story.

Word count: 333

* * *

James stared forlornly at his plate of food.

"Hey, mate!" Sirius slapped James on the back in greeting. "What are you doing here?"

"Eating breakfast," James replied sadly.

"Why so sad?"

"Why so serious?"

It was their long-standing joke. However, today, James was not his usual cheery self.

"Okay, tell me what's wrong. Now, I'm seriously worried," Sirius joked. James didn't even crack a smile.

"You know the dance?" James asked.

Sirius sighed. "Let me guess: you still haven't asked Lily."

"You never tell a girl you like her!" James protested. "That's just dumb!"

"Let me give you some advice," Sirius offered.

"How old do you think I am?" James pouted.

"Really old. Probably at least twenty-one," Sirius smirked as he fed a bit of toast to his owl.

James hit Sirius's arm. "Stop joking around," he told Sirius. "I'm not in the mood."

"But really, just go talk to her. She may open up if she knows you like her," Sirius advised, nabbing a piece of bacon off of James's plate.

"Hey! I was going to eat that!" James complained.

"Finders keepers," Sirius responded, winking. "Now, I must be off," he said, consulting his pocket watch in a business-like manner. Giving James's head one last pat, Sirius left the Great Hall.

James sighed and slowly stood up. It's now or never, he decided. Mustering all his courage, James approached the large group of girls.

"Lily?" he asked.

Each and every girl stopped talking and turned to stare at him. The throng of females nearly made James faint, but being a brave Gryffindor, he proceeded.

Hours later, James was lying on the sofa in the Gryffindor Common Room.

"James," Remus said, standing over him, "what have we always told you? You NEVER tell a girl you like her! You look like an idiot!"

James groaned. He should've known better than to trust Sirius and his twisted sense of humour!


	16. My Tom

Slight AU Merope/Tom Riddle Sr. fic. WARNING: Character death (but you knew that with this pairing). No other triggers or warnings.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) forum - Charms, #7 EC: Write about Merope G/Tom Riddle Sr.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) forum - Chocolate Frog: Write about a love-hate relationship.

Title: My Tom

Rating: T (for character death and other implied things)

Genre: Tragedy, Drama

Word count: 743

* * *

Merope and Tom had a complicated relationship. Tom loved Merope occasionally. Usually, he was under the influence of a love potion. Merope administered the potion daily for four months until she became pregnant.

When Tom found out they were having a baby, he was not pleased.

"Who the hell are you?" Tom yelled, slapping Merope away from him. "I don't like you. I don't love you. In fact, I think you're ugly. What are you doing in my house?"

"Tom, baby," Merope pleaded.

" _Don't call me 'baby'_!" Tom roared. "I'm not your anything! Now, get out!"

"Please, please don't do this to me," Merope begged, kneeling on the ground despite her large belly. "I have nowhere to go, Tom."

Tom sneered down at her pathetic form. "You should have thought of that before you drugged me."

"I didn't mean to!" Merope wailed. "I just wanted your love."

"You'll never have it. And that - Devil's seed - of yours is not my child." Tom grabbed a weapon - a crowbar - and threatened Merope with it. "Get out of here or I swear I'll beat you out of town."

Merope took one last look at Tom's anger-ridden face and fled.

With Merope gone, Tom was able to live a normal, Muggle life again. He was the biggest farmer in the town of Little Hangleton. He had the largest house and lived on the best property. He was able to enjoy life like he used to.

Except, he couldn't really enjoy life. With Merope out of the picture, Tom Riddle Sr. found it very difficult to go back to life as before. For one, he couldn't find another girl. He dated several women, but none of them were like Merope. Which was the point when he started getting back into dating, but he realized that, now, after all this time, he did appreciate Merope. Merope cooked and cleaned for him. She had taken care of him, even when he was in his foulest moods. She had done anything just for him.

And now, it was too little too late. He missed Merope and wanted her back.

Merope was dead. She had died giving birth to her child, whom she named after her one love. Passing on into the afterlife, Merope realized that all of her love hadn't changed Tom Sr. Yes, he was a lovely, handsome man. But, in Death, she could appreciate his faults. He liked his women like his beer: rare and exotic, but always there when he needed them. She also realized that no matter what, Tom was proud. He'd never admit that their child was his, no matter how alike they became.

Merope's ghost was said to haunt the hospital where she died on a pallet. Tom visited the hospital once.

"She was your wife, you say?" the nurse asked.

"No, she was my girlfriend," Tom corrected, hating the term. "We were fiancees. I was about to propose, but she got sick."

"And what was her name?"

"Merope."

"Last name?" The nurse eyed Tom skeptically.

Tom shrugged. "She was just Merope to me."

"Spell that for me, please?" the nurse asked, eyeing the clock and counting down the minutes until her shift ended.

Tom found Merope's grave site at the nearby churchyard.

"She's been laying here for God knows how many years," the pastor murmured. "They say she haunts the second floor of the hospital. That used to be the wing for mothers going into labour."

"I know," Tom whispered, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "They told me."

The pastor sighed. "I think she was happy. She gave birth to a son."

"I don't want to know," Tom snapped. "I just want to remember her as Merope."

The pastor nodded and patted Tom on the shoulder before walking away.

Tom placed a daffodil on Merope's grave marker. "There, I should've done this before. I'm sorry, Merope. Will you forgive me?"

It seemed to Tom like a shadow overtook him in that moment. A shadow of regret and sinister omens.

How ironic that in life, Merope had loved Tom, but in Death, Tom loved Merope.

And Tom Riddle Jr. enjoyed the killing. He had killed at birth, so it was no surprise he could kill again.

Merope smiled as she was reunited with her family. "My Tom," she whispered.


	17. The Wolf Within

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) forum - History of Magic, #7: Write about Remus Lupin during his time as a student at Hogwarts, including a visible representation of his suffering as a werewolf. Extra character: Regulus Black

Word count: 1155

* * *

Remus Lupin was Sirius Black's friend. Not Reg's friend. Sirius's friend.

For this reason, it was hardly public knowledge that Regulus had a friendly conversation with Remus. Had anyone witnessed the encounter, they would most likely chalk it up to 'brothers' and 'making friends and enemies known.'

It was public knowledge that the Black brothers were polar opposites.

Reg was the younger brother, the family favourite. Sirius was the bad boy, the leader, the prankster. Sirius marched to his own beat and played a tune he himself created. He answered to no one except Albus Dumbledore (and that was only because he could hardly stomach the thought of having to return to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place until his eighteenth birthday).

However, here Reg was, having a friendly chat with Remus, the easy-going member of the Marauders.

"What are you doing?" Reg asked casually, inspecting his wand.

"Reading up on Potions," Remus responded just as casually.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Slughorn's next test is going to be a killer!"

"I believe you there," Regulus said, with more feeling than normal. "I mean, of course, 'course."

Remus smiled, flipping a page in his textbook. "Do you like Potions?"

"Sort of. It's a bit like cooking, but I enjoy the exact science."

Remus shrugged, "I find Potions is odd and strange. Such weird measurements."

Reg smiled and shrugged, too, mimicking Remus. "I suppose," Reg replied, scratching his head in thought. "You know, to be honest, I prefer Charms."

"Me, too," Remus smiled.

Reg found himself rather enjoying Remus's company. Their talk, punctuated by occasional periods of silence, created a comfortable air he could relax in. Odd, considering that Remus was both a Gryffindor and a half-blood.

After another long silence, where Remus finished five more pages and Reg accomplished nothing, Reg yawned.

"I guess I'll see you around this week," Regulus said, arms extended wide to stretch out his long, muscular body.

"Maybe," Remus replied vaguely. Abruptly closing his book, Remus nodded his head and left the courtyard.

Reg looked around and spotted some of his Slytherin cronies. Ah, good for Remus.

Grinning and bearing it, Reg fudged his way through the Slytherin crowd until he arrived at his own dorm. Sighing, Reg wondered why he couldn't stand the company of his own House. Adjusting his covers, Reg got ready for bed. He'd sleep off these weird thoughts, so maybe tomorrow would be better.

For some reason, he dreamed of a troubled Remus Lupin. It looked like he was limping or as if he was bent over something. Intrigued and worried by this odd turn of events, (he usually didn't dream of his friends), Reg decided to take care of things in the morning.

And then he realized that what he saw was the sun pouring through the window. Crap. It was morning.

* * *

During the course of the week, Reg did his best to find Remus. But even amongst Sirius's circle, Remus was nowhere to be found.

Late one night, Reg discovered Remus's secret.

Since the Slytherin Common Room looked out over the grounds, Reg often sat in the comfy chair by the fireplace to watch the turn of events outdoors. On this particular night, (it was a Thursday), Reg happened to glimpse a brownish figure galloping across the grounds. The full moon shone down upon the land like a spotlight bathing a stage for contrast.

Rushing outside, Reg caught sight of a large, furry creature.

"Re-Remus?" Reg whispered. "Remi, you in there?"

The creature growled and whimpered, as if in pain.

"Hey, buddy, you'll be okay. Everything will be alright."

The creature nodded, as if in understanding. It seemed nervous and upset because the thing kept chasing its own tail.

"That's your own tail, silly," Reg pointed out to the creature.

At last, under the boughs of the Whomping Willow, the creature eluded Reg's capture and disappeared from sight.

"Hey! Where'd you go?" Reg called.

There was no response.

\- O -

Several weeks later, Reg returned to the same tree and kept vigil. Now he knew the tree was involved, Reg was determined to get to the bottom of this mystery.

At last, Reg saw Remus tap the knot, thereby stopping the tree from attacking. He then dug and dug and dug until the proper quotation was retrieved.

"Nice!" Reg thought, fist-pumping the air. "I've got it!" he loudly shouted.

"Shhh!" the trees whispered in the breeze.

"Sorry," Regulus said to no one in particular.

Eventually, hours later, Remus Lupin emerged from the Whomping Willow, tired and beaten. Walking past the roots of the Whomping Willow, Remus stumbled over a body-shaped figure.

"Woah!" Remus shouted. "OH, hey! It's you - it's Reg, right?" Remus asked, excitedly. "Just what are you doing in these parts?"

"I'm here for the competition - or I was. I think it's over. Anyway, the Anime convention wasn't that big."

"What are you talking about?" Remus wondered blearily.

"True, the summer one is much bigger," Reg agreed, before popping off back to sleep.

"Oh," Remus said, deadpan, "he's asleep." Promptly after stating this obvious fact, Remus fell into a deep sleep, too.

* * *

It was Saturday morning when Remus woke up to intense prodding.

"You're shedding," Reg teased, showing a bleary-eyed Remus stray brown hairs. "What's wrong with you, anyway? Why are you always limping?"

Remus sighed and finally decided to tell Reg the truth. "We're friends, right?" Remus asked tentatively.

Reg snorted, "I suppose. We've come this far in the relationship."

Remus smiled, "Then I guess I should tell you. Brace yourself - I'm a part-time werewolf."

Reg stared, as if unsure he should believe Remus.

"Really?" Reg asked.

"Yes. At every full moon, I go into the heart of the Whomping Willow and stay there until I am restored to my normal self."

"That explains a lot. Where does the Willow go?"

"The Shrieking Shack."

"Oh my God. It's you!"

"Yes," Remus confirmed. "The rumours are partly true. There is a monster inside half the time."

"Don't be so hard on yourself."

"I never forget that I could have snapped at you," Remus tartly explained. That seemed to shut Regulus up. For the moment.

"But," Regulus almost immediately replied.

"Save it. I'm tired."

"The price one pays to have supernatural powers like a werewolf," Reg muttered. "Alright, come on. Let's grab some shuteye at the library. Last one there's a rotten egg!" Reg took off running.

"But - that's not what a library's for!" was Remus's lame come back. Sighing, Remus set into a trot, too. "Alright," he sighed, "I'm coming! Save a spot for meeeee!"

Reg did not hear a thing because he was already in the library, celebrating his sweet, cheater's victory.


End file.
